


Carry that Weight

by chromaticality



Category: Free!
Genre: Fluff, Kink Meme, M/M, Mamakoto, That's it, climb that boy like a tree, fill for kink meme, nothing more than a bit of kissing, tachibana makoto/nanase haruka - Freeform, that's the story, two stubborn dumbasses make out
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-02
Updated: 2014-09-02
Packaged: 2018-02-15 20:14:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,993
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2241957
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chromaticality/pseuds/chromaticality
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Three times Makoto carried Haru, and one time he had to be convinced into it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Carry that Weight

 

One: 

 

“Put me down.”

Haru's tone was so sulky that Makoto had to be very careful not to laugh. Serious, concerned face time. “Are you going to try to jump in the fountain again?”

“...No.”

“That wasn't as convincing as you thought it was.”

In response, the black-haired boy wiggled and then let himself hang like dead weight, Makoto's arm clasped firmly around his midsection. It _was_ a bit heavy, but he figured he could hold Haru like this until they got out of sight of the fountain. 

“We should have gone to the pool.”

“You wanted to get Ren and Ran a birthday present,” he reminded absently, hitching his arm a little to reduce the strain and keep his feet from dragging on the ground.

Haru _oofed_ , then muttered rebelliously, “I'll get them a pool pass.”

“But Haru-chan, they already have one.”

“Drop the -chan.”

A crueler person would have dropped him, just as asked, but Makoto only rounded the corner and set him on his feet, steadying him until he got his balance. “Now then,” he said cheerfully, as if scruffing your best friend like a naughty kitten and tucking him under your arm were perfectly normal behavior, “What's this about you wanting to get Ran the cute pencil case she was looking at a few weeks ago?”

“I didn't say--”

“ _And_ the action figure that Ren wants? You're so generous, Haru-chan.”

And if Haru glowered, well, he still let Makoto herd him into the store.

 

Two:

The crashing waves nearly drowned out the hiss of pain Haru made behind him. Makoto would have missed it if the ocean didn't still put him on edge. They'd just been coming into shore at the end of a long, stamina-draining exercise. Training in the ocean was definitely more efficient (so said Rei, anyway), but he definitely wasn't at-ease with the whole affair. So it was with a bit of panic that he whirled around from the edge of the water to see Haru hobbling in the surf. 

“Haru! What's wrong?!” His words made Nagisa and Rei look up as well. Haru waved a hand, face impassive, but Makoto hastily slogged back into the water toward him. “Is it a cramp? Pulled muscle?”

Haru shook his head, droplets flying from his hair. “Stepped on something. I'm fine.”

“Are you bleeding?” 

“It's fine.”

“Let me see it.” 

“It's fine.”

“Haru!” Makoto frowned, worried, unwilling to let it drop. “Show me your foot.”

The other boy opened his mouth stubbornly, then looked at Makoto closely. Abruptly, he shrugged and grasped his shoulder to keep the waves from pulling him over as he raised one foot clear of the water. Makoto blanched when he saw the deep, freely-bleeding cut crossing the arch, the panic ramping up just a bit.

“Glass, maybe?” Nagisa suggested sympathetically as he and Rei drew closer. “Or coral?”

Rei turned a bit green at the sight of blood, and for a moment Makoto thought he might vomit. But no, with a visible act of self-mastery he looked away and said, “Either way, Haru-senpai shouldn't be walking on it.” 

Nagisa bit his lip, then brightened. “I saw a clinic just up the street when we were walking down this morning. If we can get him there, I bet they can bind it up. But walking through the sand...”

“I'll carry him,” Makoto corrected him. “You two go grab our stuff, please.”

They immediately took off running down the beach, and Makoto turned to his suspiciously silent friend. Sure enough, he didn't look happy with the situation, but he wasn't arguing either. Either his foot hurt more than he was letting on, or he was trying to be conscientious about how Makoto might be feeling about all this. 

Either way, Makoto wasn't going to look a gift horse in the mouth. He moved around in front and crouched down into the water a bit. “Come on, Haru. Let's meet them at the street.”

Hesitatingly, Haru placed water-pruned hands on his shoulders and, after a bit of awkward maneuvering, Makoto managed to get his hands under his legs and stood up fully. Haru was warm on his bare back, slowly relaxing against him as he walked out of the water. 

“Doing all right?”

“You're very tall.” Haru dead-panned, and wow, he really must be worried about Makoto if he was cracking jokes. He forced himself to relax a bit, and found that his grip had probably been far too tight. He took a few discreet breaths to calm himself down, which was getting easier as the ocean receded behind them. A glance at the sand behind them revealed a small, patchy blood trail, but nothing serious.

The weight on his back, the breath in his hair, it was all very reassuring. It felt right. “Bleeding into the water like that, were you trying to check if Rin was in the area?” He managed to tease back, earning himself a light whack across the back of the head. 

 

Three:

Haru had fallen asleep, head tucked into his arm. Makoto guessed it was only to be expected—he'd hoped that by tricking him into watching Ocean's Eleven he'd be interested enough to keep watching even after figuring out it wasn't about water, but no luck. He flicked off the TV and his bedroom was plunged into quiet darkness.

He was tired too, really. Gou-chan had them on a strict training regime to rival Samezuka's. Even someone with Haru's stamina would be affected. Still, sleeping on the floor didn't exactly look comfortable. He nudged his shoulder. “Haru, you should get into the futon.”

The blue eyes opened, but he looked so dazed and out of it that Makoto felt something tug in his chest. He reached out without thinking and brushed black hair away from his face. “You awake?” Haru made a soft noise that could have been a yes or no, and the eyes closed again. “You'll get sick if you sleep out in the open like this.”

No response. Makoto sighed. “You're as bad as Ren and Ran. Come on, up we go.” He hooked one arm beneath his legs and another beneath his back, lifting with a grunt of effort until he was standing in the middle of the room, Haru cradled against him. 

The reality of the situation hit him abruptly, and he fought against a blush. Bridal-carrying your best friend was definitely not normal. It probably also wasn't supposed to feel that good, the warmth and the way he was draped perfectly, head pressed against Makoto's arm. He'd lost a bit of weight, Makoto noticed distantly. He'd have to tell Gou-chan to change his diet.

But that thought was lost as Haru's lips parted slightly, sighing in his sleep, and damn it, damn it, damn it. You were _definitely_ not supposed to have that soft, mushy feeling about your best friend. Makoto shook his head, mortified, and walked the few steps to the other side of the room to tuck him into the spare futon. 

He very carefully did not let his hands linger, and was appalled to find that it was a bit difficult. 

 

Four:

 

It would have continued like that for a long time, forever if Makoto had his way. No chance was he speaking up about any sort of awkward, embarrassing desires. Even he couldn't write it off as mere protectiveness at this point, but he wasn't going to burden Haru with that sort of thing. 

It only lasted for a few weeks. After school, as he started to split away up the path that led to his home, Haru stopped him with a hand on his sleeve, staring gravely. “Come inside for a bit.”

Makoto blinked uncertainly. “Uh. Okay? Sure.”

He expected them to go into the living room, but instead Haru led him upstairs to his room before turning around abruptly. “I don't mind,” he said firmly, apropos of nothing. 

“You, that is—what?”

“I don't mind,” Haru repeated, “So stop acting weird.”

Makoto flinched. He really had been acting weird. What used to be friendly touches—an arm around the shoulder, for example, now he second- and tripled-guessed, every comment examined for some sort of inappropriate connotation. He'd hoped Haru wouldn't notice. “Sorry,” he said miserably. 

“I _don't mind_ ,” he insisted, a bit irritably, as if Makoto were being purposely slow. He took another long look at him, and Makoto fidgeted under his gaze. Even if he didn't care, the friendship was changed, wasn't it? It wasn't fair for him to act...weird...around Haru. Even someone like him would get uncomfortable eventually. Everything would change and it was his fault.

“You don't get it,” Haru said, visibly coming to a decision and stepping closer. Makoto steeled himself, waiting for some sort of fall-out. 

Instead, his eyes widened in shock as Haru pulled him into a kiss, hand fisted into his shirt. His lips were soft and he smelled like chlorine and shampoo, and just the clean, fresh scent of him. It was addictive, and the yearning that swept through him when Haru broke away was almost too much to bear. 

But doubt was there too, and he had to be sure. “You don't have to do this. I can...I don't know. Give you space. Or not. Whatever you want. But you don't need to do this, Haru.” Haru pulled him into another kiss, then let go. The warmth was dizzying. “I'm serious. You don't have to do this. I can figure it out.” 

Haru made a displeased noise and grabbed his face between both hands, pressing another kiss against him. “Have I ever,” he said lowly, eyes burning brightly, “ _ever_ done something I haven't wanted?”

“Well, no, but—”

And he was tugged in for another kiss, longer this time, Haru licking at his lower lip and encouraging him to respond, and god, he couldn't help himself. He hooked his hands around the thin waist and gave in, kissing like his life depended on it, every nerve in his body singing with awareness. It felt so, so right, his tongue against Haru's, backing him up until he had the black-haired boy pinned against the wall. Flush against one another, Haru's hand looping around him to wind into his hair. 

He was on his tip-toes, he noticed distractedly, trying to get the best angle, and that didn't seem comfortable. Barely thinking about it, not breaking the kiss, he lifted the other boy up until his legs wrapped around his waist, Makoto's hands supporting his back against the wall. The new position allowed him to delve deeper into Haru's mouth, the heady sensation of it buzzing through him. 

Haru was making soft, satisfied sighs into his mouth, and Makoto opened his eyes to see the light flush raising on his cheeks. It was a completely new expression, and he pulled back to appreciate it properly. It awed him, that he was allowed to see this. That there were still new things to learn about Haru, after so many years together. 

He was looking at Makoto as well, inscrutable as ever. His lips were a little redder than normal, Makoto noticed with a jolt of desire. It would be so easy to take this fast, to just take, after so long of holding back. Taking a calming breath, he slowly set the other boy down and stepped back, just a little. “I want to...” he hesitated, feeling how hot his face was. “I want to do this right. Take it slow.”

Haru shrugged, leaning against the wall. He seemed indifferent, but Makoto thought he spotted a nervous tremor in one hand. This was new for him too, after all. Somehow that thought filled Makoto with a bit more confidence. “I figured.” Haru gave him the smallest, barely-there smile. “You can take me to the aquarium this weekend.”

And there was nothing to be done except laugh and kiss him again.


End file.
